


MIT Valedictorian, Age 30, Found Dead

by moss_mostmagnifique



Category: half life but the ai is self aware
Genre: Afterlife, Benry also has somethin funky going on, Darnold is also a real person and they're a nonbinary woman, F/F, Gen, Glam-Rock Backstory Bubby Hell Yes, Grim Reaper Tommy and G-Man, HLVRAIHEVAI but only a little, M/M, Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:54:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24310885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moss_mostmagnifique/pseuds/moss_mostmagnifique
Summary: Johnathan Walker dies after a weirdly vivid Half-Life based fever dream.The Grim Reapers are all too familiar. At least there'ssomethingwaiting for him.
Relationships: Benrey/Tommy Coolatta
Comments: 2
Kudos: 39





	1. MIT Valedictorian, Age 30, Found Dead

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first solo fic that is actually going to go anywhere, jjjjjj! My tumblr is @mossmostmagnificent. Feel free to reach out, especially to talk about hlvrai and the AU!
> 
> Constructive criticism welcomed gladly ^_^

Johnathan Walker was on the verge of tears. Of course he was, seeing as he hadn’t not been in days. Days? What a long time it had been, stuck in his apartment. He wished. He just woke up from that nightmare a few hours back. He had been sleeping for 72 hours straight, and he was ravenous. The first meal he had after three days in some sort of video-game induced traumatic fever dream was stale pizza, one of the only things that he was sure didn’t go bad. He had to throw away some other stuff. Mold got to everything he made fast. Just his luck, he figured. He glanced towards his computer. 

_So, Gord-- John. John. How about some-- some fuckin Stardew Valley. Yeah. Take your mind off._

Johnathan Walker walked, still shaky from being inert for so long, towards his desk. When he went to sit down, he nearly lost balance. He pressed the on button.

And on his screen, where his Eggman’s Announcement desktop background should have been, was a figure. A tall, pale man, with a high forehead and unsettling eyes. He was wearing a suit. 

John’s shaking got worse. Violent.

“Please. Pleas-- you’re not real. Did I get a virus? Am I hallucinating? Am-- Please tell me I’m not still asleep. I want to get _up_ , I want to see my _family_ , I have shit to do! I don’t even know if I still have my _job!_ ”

The G-man’s halting voice was tinny, far more so than it should have been, since Gor-- John had sprung for such good speakers. “Oh, no. You really shouldn’t… be so concerned. You will be able to see whoever you… wish. My… son will attend to you now. I have more important matters to attend to than… “ He inhaled sharply, “Another soul that he decided to take in.”

The computer shut off. Gordon tried to scream at the man, but his throat closed up. His eyes rolled back into his head. He felt his nose break as his face fell forwards.

“M-Mister Freeman, are you alright? Uhh, my father’s whole speech really did a number on you, didn’t it? I tell him not to be so mean, but he doesn’t really listen…”

“T-Tommy? Tommy. You won’t believe the day I’ve had. I woke up! I woke up. I had a life, I kind of even had a girlfriend who I forgot about, and then I got _KILLED BY YOUR FUCKING DAD._ ”

“Well, you were already dead, but I helped you out! I managed to get you another few hours. Did you cherish them?”

“You- y- know what? Yeah. I did. Thanks, Tommy.” John (or Gordon, seeing as he was beginning to alternate between them in his own thinking) put his arm around the taller man’s shoulders, leaning against him as Tommy helped him stand.

“That’s nice! Adjusting to being dead can be really hard, especially since we’re on the younger side! Do you want some jellybeans? I’ve been saving them for the next child, but I have more in my car, so it won’t be a waste!”

“U-uh, alright. I’ll probably end up giving them all to you, though.” John-Gordon paused. “Can I ask you a few questions? You don’t mind, right?”

“Of course you can!” Tommy smiled, just as brightly as John-Gordon imagined he would. In person, real person, his age was much more apparent, especially in the slight wrinkles around his face. He was still wearing the propeller beanie and the butterfly-lapel labcoat, though, and at at least six-five, he was very distinctive in appearance.

“Mr. Freeman, you’re staring at my hat again. I know it’s befitting, but I-- sometimes I get enough of that, you know?” 

John-Gordon lowered his eyes. “Sorry man. I, uhh, yeah. Sorry.”

“It’s alright! You have questions, right? I love talking people through this. It’s fun! Once they get more okay with it, I mean.” Tommy was still smiling. It was captivating, almost, seeing him in real life, putting together what aspects of the game model were him and which were Half-Life. Most were both, really, but his eyes were brighter in real life. Everything about him was, really.

“Gordon? You seem a little disoriented. Do you-- do you want me to help you outside? Whenever I feel disconnected, getting fresh air helps a lot!”

“Uh, Ye- yeah okay. Outside. Outside sounds good.” He paused again, this time keeping his eyes on the ground, to keep his balance better. “Can we stay? Near my apartment I mean. I know I’ll have to go _somewhere_ , eventually, but I-- I don’t--” John-Gordon took off his glasses as his voice began to weaken. Tommy put his arm around him, helping him to stay standing. John-Gordon couldn’t understand what Tommy murmured to him as he pressed his head into the lab coat’s lapel, but as he sobbed into the waterproof cloth, Tommy helped him stumble towards the door. 

After what seemed like far too long a time blindly staggering, Tommy stopped walking.

“H-hey, Gordon. You said you wanted to stay near home for a while, right? We’re at th- the stairs! So if you want, we can sit down.”

“Thanks, Tommy. Uhh, I feel weird saying this, but, my nam-- my name was John. Johnathan Walker. I like it though. Gordon, I mean. So, my name can be John Gordon Walker, I guess. I don’t think I could change my name if I wanted to, but you know. It doesn’t need to be official, I guess.”

“Yeah! Nothing stopping you from being yourself more! That’s an upside, usually…” 

Gordon felt like the pause was uncomfortable, but Tommy seemed perfectly happy just sitting on the stairs, looking into space, absent-mindedly fiddling with his tie and keys.

“Are the others alright? Is anyone even _real_?”

“Oh…” Tommy muttered, “They’re alright. Most of them weren’t really, always there, though… Their memories were faked. I don’t know how it happened, they weren’t supposed to be, but Benry riled them up somehow, and then they tur-- turned into people! I, uh, I think it's because they did something that bothered them. I don't really know.” He was looking intently at the ground by Gordon’s feet. “Mr. Walker, I-- I’m really sorry. I didn’t remember anything, so that it would be easier for you and Jada, so I didn’t realize anything was weird when the others woke up… I feel really bad about it, but I guess that’s good, because if I didn’t, something would be wrong. You know?”

“Yeah, I do. So Benry’s the real one, huh? That’s jus- That’s just my fucking luck, I guess. Can we go already? I can’t stand being stuck here anymore.”

Tommy opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again. After a few long seconds, he helped Gordon stand, and walked him to the car.

Gordon snorted. “Is that _Bubby’s_ Cadillac? That he stole? How is that-- How is it here?”

“I don’t know, Mr. Walker, but it’s a really nice car! It took me hours to convince Bubby to give me the keys, though. Dr. Coomer had to remind him that he’s crashed the car more than anyone else, and then Dr. Bubby just laughed, like Benry does after they fall off of something, like they’re plotting to take over the world, uh, in a cartoon... oh and then Bubby tossed me the keys.” He opened the door for Gordon, who managed to sit down by himself relatively gracefully. “Do you want music? I have a lot of pop music, but I know a lot of people don’t like saccharine!”

“Tommy. Tommy. After the day I’ve had I will listen to anything. Please. Play the _cheesiest_ , most _corporate_ bubblegum pop you want. I would pay for just a crumb-- just a little piece of normalcy.”

Tommy cocked an eyebrow, but nodded. “Sounds good! Tell me if you want me to change it!” and turned on his radio to, as promised, a campy, saccharine pop song.

As they drove, Gordon tried to take his mind off of the people he was leaving behind. At least he was heading towards something. He knew where he was going, and that was enough. Maybe, if Benry was nicer when he wasn’t being a murderous assbasket, Gordon would be able to haunt his family. 

As his breathing began to slow, and his shaking began to subside, John Gordon Walker placed his hand on Tommy’s, and closed his eyes. Things were going to be alright, eventually.


	2. You Know, like the Song by Village People.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gordon and Tommy arrive in the afterlife. There is a lot to try to keep track of, so Gordon keeps to the side. Fortunately, the former head of the Black Mesa mixology department feels similarly.

They arrived after about three hours. Gordon jolted awake when the car stopped.

“MARIE? I just had the weirdes-- the weirdest dr-- Oh, okay. Alriiiight! I’m still here. Still dead! Yep, that’s not going anywhere.” 

He paused.

For a long, long time. 

“... I _need_ a drink.”

Tommy raised his eyebrow. “That’s no way to cope with the dread, uh, of your prior mortality! You’re going to hang out with us! Give it a few minutes, and then, if you still feel bad, I can help you out! Mourning takes time, of course, but… you know what, Mr. Walker? You’ve been through tougher, and now, your friends are actually going to try to help!” 

Tommy paused to adjust his hat. “I hope you’re alright with seeing Benry again. They didn’t mean it all, they’re just a big jerk. We’re working on it!”

Gordon smiled, despite the pit gnawing its way into his stomach, and stood. Still shaky. He stumbled a few steps before asking Tommy to help him.

“I might need to get a cane or something. You got those, Tommy?”

“Of course, Mr. Walker! Probably not here, though. I can pick one up tomorrow, is it alright until then?”

“Well-- I-- I think I’ll be alright if you can help me. Hell, as long as Benry doesn’t try anything, I’ll be alright.”

Tommy stayed silent again. Gordon noticed his lips were pursed. Benry was probably a sensitive subject. His stomach turned even more, not that it was any of _his_ business who Tommy’s friends were. 

The building looked like a YMCA beginning to dilapidate. It probably was, seeing as it had the logo. In front of the teal-tinted glass doors was a small collection of people. People he recognized, for the most part. The game models didn’t look much like they did, besides Benry. They probably made themself look like the Half Life guard on purpose, the asshole.

Coomer was the second-most familiar, a short, stout, older gentleman in a labcoat. A labcoat with the sleeves ripped off. Gordon suppressed a snicker. 

Bubby was tall and spidery, with sharp features. He didn’t look like he cared much to be there, but that was probably just how he was. His skintone was also significantly darker than the model’s, a medium olive tone instead of the pasty white.

Sunkist was still two-dimensional, and Gordon didn’t notice her until she turned to face him with a quiet “borf!”

The three members of the Science Team waved enthusiastically, which is to say that Coomer waved enthusiastically, and the other two nodded casually at him as he walked in. The three others were Forzen, who looked similarly like his game model, and two others, two women. The shorter of the two waved nervously, as though certain that every newcomer would bring hell upon them all. 

With the first “Hello, Gordon!”, his attention snapped back to the Science Team. 

“Hey, Dr. Coomer! Hey Bubby! And, uh, hi, Benry. I don’t want you to talk to me for like, the next few weeks. It’s going to take me a bit to get over that time when you _cut off my arm!_ ”

Bubby snorted indignantly. “I helped him! Are you going to erase my hard work? I should have stayed inside.”

Gordon pinched the bridge of his nose. “Right. I’ll credit you next time. I’m going to make sure not to forget about that the next time I blame someone for traumatizing me.”

“Thank you, Gordon! Finally, some respect.”

“Mr. Bubby, he was… He was being sarcastic.”

“Oh, Tommy, I don’t mind what he is as long as I get my credit!”

Benry snickered. “love wins, uhh, another victory for, uhh, modern the era.”

Tommy passed Gordon on to Dr. Coomer. Gordon nearly startled when he realized he missed it. Well, he nearly _would have_ , if he were even able to. His shaking got worse once everything got nearer. More real. 

The inside looked like a hurricane hit it. The lobby was sectioned off into little squares, one for each person. Gordon could tell whose each was. 

Dr. Coomer must have only gotten in recently, since all the punching bags were still unbroken. Most of them looked like they were barely hanging on, though, and a small patching kit with Bubby’s name painted on in big letters was by the wall. In the small corner not full of puncheable objects was a wrestling ring. It was covered in Beyblades, for some reason.

Tommy’s section was about as expected, lined up with posters for shows he liked, albeit all floating where the walls would be, if there were any. Gordon silently wished goodbye to the times when he could trust Tommy to obey the laws of physics. Maybe he would write a memorial song with Benry’s acoustic. Which was in Tommy’s section.

Benry’s room looked like Gordon expected. Messy, with clothes and everything else strewn throughout. The only thing that wasn’t a mess was the pc setup in the Tommy-facing corner, next to a door. The sinking feeling came back, but Gordon shook it off. He shouldn’t get so possessive of this guy, he determined again to himself, even if he has bad taste in friends.

Bubby’s room was a mess, with what looked like improvised pieces of armor on one end, and in the other, a large pit full of grass clippings and the remains of a treadmill that looked like he took an axe to it. He probably did.

The other three were less clear-cut. One of the women appeared to be Darnold, or at least, appeared to have taken on Darnold’s form like he did Gordon’s.The shorter one, seeing as she was the one mixologizing the hell out of her section, with soda bottles full of various substances. She was chubby, with close-cropped hair, a nose ring, and a t-shirt with the original She-Ra on it. Her skin tone was about the same, maybe a little darker or warmer-toned, which made sense. Overall, she seemed nice enough, especially knowing what Darnold was like in Black Mesa.

“Howdy. I’m John Walker, Gordon Freeman. Were you, uh, real? Weird thing to ask, but, uhh, it’s been a long few days.”

She laughed quietly. “Yeah, yeah. I was. My name’s Jada Siironen, Darnold. Go ahead and call me Darnold, though, I like it better… You know, I don’t think he had a last name. Is that sad? I guess he’s me, so I say probably not. Well! You got TF2? I still can’t do anything _productive_ with my computer after _they_ poured shit on it. On the bright side, they really did manage to download more storage space...” she laughed, a strange, snorting noise, and grinned. 

“Oh, nah. My computer is probably fried, and it’s still back at my old place. Probably covered in blood, too. I think the last thing I did as a living man was break my fuckin’ nose.” Gordon laughed too, in spite of himself. “So, you’re alright here?”

“Now that nobody’s going to get much deader, I think we’re alright. I’ve never liked blood. I wanted to be a doctor, but I couldn’t stand looking at the stuff, so, uh, you know. Got into chemistry. I was so close to graduating…”

Gordon winced. “Oh _man_ , I get that. I was in MIT, for real… Hey, how long can someone actually live without their hand?”

Darnold stared pointedly at him for a few seconds before he clarified. “I mean for blood loss! Not.. just not having a hand…”

“Oh, I don’t know. It was less than a year before I transferred! Look it up! Not on my computer, it’ll just show up the TF2 comics. I still haven’t made the Anti-Gamer potion quite right yet… But I did manage to catch some of the weird orbs everyone’s been spitting constantly! It sounds unsanitary, but culturing comes back almost completely sterile, so I don’t feel too bad saying that most of the colors taste really good!”

Gordon put his face in his hands. “ I guess so, Darnold.. Oh man. Nothing is ever going to be normal, is it?”

Right as he asked, a crack like a tree falling sounded behind them. Bubby crowed victoriously, and Benry and Forzen were also cheering. Well, Benry was laughing, like he did when he fell. Like Tommy said he did. Darnold’s eyes widened, and she took a step back. Gordon turned around as slowly as he could. The pit in the corner of Bubby’s segment was on fire, the flames making a pillar almost ten feet tall.

“Hoooly _shit!_ ” Bubby still sounded exhilarated. To be fair, that was a lot of fire. “MY POWER GROWS, GORDON!” He screamed as he threw one of Dr. Coomer’s less-sturdy punching bags into the flame. It exploded, shooting sand and padding everywhere. 

“Very good, Professor Bubby! We will eat like kings tonight!” 

“DOCTOR! It’s DOCTOR Bubby!”

Tommy furrowed his eyebrows. “We really shouldn’t be destroying everything so much. My father doesn’t like that, and you should all know how he gets about organization by now! Gordon, in case you weren’t sure, the G-Man, my dad, is _very_ particular about how the afterlives are kept! This is a smaller one, but that doesn’t stop him much!” He laughed a little, and did nothing more to stop the absolute shit that everything was going to. In fact, he looked like he appreciated it.

Once Darnold and Tommy had put together some vegetables and claimed it was a salad, the herd of undead AIs (and Benry) descended upon it with skewers. Dr. Coomer was trying very hard to roast a piece of Romaine lettuce over the fire, and Bubby… was just stabbing the salad. It was almost hypnotic, watching him find anything that wasn’t stabbed and tear it apart.

Gordon moved to the outskirts of the bonfire’s warmth. Darnold sat next to him.

“So, Gordon. John?”

“Gordon. Gordon Walker.”

“Gordon Walker. I hope this isn’t a too-personal question, but, uhh, what did you want to do? With your life. You aren’t-- Well, you _weren’t_ too old.”

“It’s no problem at all, Darnold. Darnold Siironen?”

“Yes.”

“Well, to answer the question… I don’t know. I barely remember anything about who I was, let alone what happened to me. I remember a few people, and that’s… that’s it. I barely even remember my girlfriend’s name. We were together for years, I was about to propose, and then I died and forgot _everything_. But, uhh, that’s-- you know. That’s not important right now.”

“Yeah… that’s, uhh, that’s really rough. I’m sorry I don’t know what to say… ”

“Yeah...”

“You know, Gordon, in the original games the HEV suit can talk. Was she in your experience?”

“Oh, uhh, no? The suit didn’t say anything. Ever.”

“Cool.”

The rest of the night continued about as expected, with only very little lightening of the chaos centered around Bubby’s fireplace. Eventually, Gordon headed to the only unfurnished square with the sleeping bag Tommy proffered earlier, and tried to ignore the chaos around him. At some point, maybe 1:00 AM, Bubby gave Gordon a set of noise-cancelling headphones, which he accepted gladly.

Gordon woke up with a face covered in marker. After taking about three straight hours to clear it all off, he limped to Tommy’s quarters. He had put up walls somehow. Gordon would have to ask about that sometime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My thoughts are torn between Darnold, Bubby, and the Frenmy ship. Ah well, there's always next chapter for more content!


End file.
